


Saltwater Whispers

by ArwenaminMaeleth



Category: British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Drunken behaviour, F/M, Fluff, Reasons why, kiss and makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 16:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17769959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenaminMaeleth/pseuds/ArwenaminMaeleth
Summary: She left him without a reason why but now Tom is back to find out!





	Saltwater Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I am terrible with summaries but please read this!? I will give you a cookie!!
> 
> (N) is my way of writing (Y/N).
> 
> Enjoy and please comment!

BANG! 

Startled, she sat up straight in bed. Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart racing. Yet stopping still. All at the same time. 

BANG! There it was again. Coming to, (N) pushed the covers off of her, and went to inspect what was causing so much noise. The banging was persistent, and she was sure it was going to wake the whole of her street.

Cautiously she walked down her hall, towards the front door. The frame shook with the intensity of the banging. Reaching out, she slowly slipped the chain from its lock. At first, she opened the door only a fraction, keeping herself safe. Peeking through the gap she noticed a tall, slender, yet slumped frame leaning against the wall beside her door. Rolling her eyes, she opened the door fully, knowing she was in no immediate danger.

“Tom! Are you trying to wake my neighbours!?” She snapped, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“You weren’t answering.” He slurred. 

“For a very good reason. I was asleep!” 

Her line of sight moved from Tom to the creaking door opposite from her apartment. Her neighbour stuck his head out, eyes barely open and voice groggy. Shit.

“Everything alright, (N)? I heard banging.” 

“Everything’s fine. Sorry to wake you Mr. Walsh.” She gave him a sorry smile and then grabbed Tom, pulling him inside. Bidding her neighbour a good night, and apologising once more, she shut the door.

She turned sharply to scorn and scold the man in her hall. Only when she turned he had disappeared. 

“Tom?” 

Confused, she walked down the hall trying to locate her ex, or friend. She wasn’t quite sure what to call him. Well, she could surely think of a few things, but it wasn’t the time for it. What she wanted to know was why he was trying to break her door down at- she turned to check the clock- 3 am!! Running her hand through her bed hair and rubbing her eyes, she prepared herself for whatever was to come. All that she knew was that she wasn’t getting any sleep, anytime soon.

—————  
Tom sat still, elbows resting on his thighs as he leant forward, hands clasped together, carefully holding up his head. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, but it was a good idea about an hour, or so, ago.

Walking in to the living room, N found him sitting on her sofa. She took a moment to take him in. He was still the same Tom, but something was different. He was quiet and distant. His body language told her a story of a broken man. His posture was stiff, not relaxed like she was used to, and his hands always closed. Tom was an animated person, his hands always telling most of the story that his lips had yet to tell. But not this time.

Breaking the barrier between the hall and the living room, N came to take a seat on the sofa opposite. She leant over and hesitantly placed a hand on his knee. 

“Is everything okay?” She wasn’t sure if it was the right kind of question to ask. Of course, he wasn’t okay. Otherwise, why would he feel an urgent need to break her door down in the early hours of the morning.

His gaze did not move from the floor. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, for he knew it would be the last straw that would break him.

Suddenly he shot up, swaying slightly from standing too quickly. He steadied himself, muttering.

“This was a bad idea, I’m sorry.” 

(N) stood up and rushed to his side, carefully insisting that he sit down.

“What’s a bad idea?”

“Being here.” He slurred a little.

“Tom, are you drunk?” (N) asked, although she didn’t need to as she could smell the alcohol on him. 

“Just a bit.” He felt ashamed. He was not acting like his usual self. In all fairness, he hadn’t been the same since she asked him to leave. His eyes darted to the kitchen which joined the living room. His mind then replayed the night that it had all ended. He frowned.

“What’s the matter, Tom?” (N) was starting to get worried since he was acting rather strange. It scared her. He still wouldn’t look at her.

“I miss you.” He finally said it. He said out loud what he was feeling deep within. “Why did you leave me, (N)?” After what felt like hours, his drowning blues met her colourful hues. (N) looked at him and felt her chest tighten. In his eyes, all she could see was pain. The dark circles indicated lack of sleep. Her heart thawed, old feelings rushing back to her.

“I just...I needed some space.” It was the best answer that she could give him. It was weak, but it was true. She felt as though she was being smothered by his lifestyle. Like being trapped in a small room with no way out, N began to panic. 

“You should have just said something! I would have worked it out with you. Instead, you run, and you break my heart.” His voice wobbled, fighting back the lump that was forming in his throat. He was not about to let himself cry in front of her, although it was becoming more difficult to fight it.

It was now (N)’s turn to look away. Suddenly she felt guilty. Just as he said, instead of talking to him, her need to breathe turned in to a literal need for space. Upon his return home, her usual welcome of a loving kiss was replaced with the cold shoulder.

She had given him no chance to even find out what was wrong, or a chance to save them. She just gave him the keys to his home and uttered the word ‘sorry’ before leaving, making sure the door was shut tight behind her.

Before she knew it, Tom was on his knees before her, taking both her hands in to his. His warm touch made her shiver, his fingertips tracing gently over her skin.

He then reached up, bringing her to look at him. Though a small and simple the gesture, N could feel him shaking. 

She looked down at the man she loved dearly but had been stupid by letting him go. Tears now flooded her eyes, threatening to spill. Her lips parted, wanting to say something but nothing came out. She didn’t need to say anything. Tom could see in the way she looked at him, how she felt. 

“C-Can I,” He stuttered, more nervous now than drunk. (N) bit on her lower lip, waiting for him to finish. “Can I kiss you?”

She took a second to process what was happening. Her heart was breaking by the way he looked at her, eyes begging for just one sweet kiss. Releasing a slow breath, she nodded.

Tom almost couldn’t believe his luck, for he was sure that she would turn him away. Though the glassy gaze she gave him was all the answer he needed to his question. She did still care about him.

His hand, slow and unsteady, reached up to tuck a strand of her untamed locks, behind her ear. His fingertips carefully brushed a secret spot behind her ear, feeling her shiver in response to the accidental touch. He was relieved to see that she had not shut herself off from him completely; his touch still evoking the same reaction as it did the very first time he was allowed to embrace her. 

(N) shivered. He always had ways to make her give herself up to him completely, even in the smallest of ways. The anticipation of his kiss was one of those ways. He knew exactly how to keep her on edge, waiting what felt like a lifetime, to feel his lips brush hers in the sweetest of kisses. Often his initial kiss would be like a story, told in a whisper from his lips, upon her own. Their story would begin simple, soon becoming its own novel; the whispers of love quickly turning in to shouts of passion.

Leaning forward, he told her their story once more, his lips barely brushing across her own. She ignored the alcohol that tainted his breath, her awakened need for him erasing the bitter taste. Her eyes closed, stupidly allowing a tear to fall. He tasted her sadness, the moment his lips came to touch upon her own, the taste unfamiliar to him. His memory of their intimacy never once tasted of sadness, but of pure love. The salt of her tear, served only to remind him of his heartbreak, of her leaving him, causing his own tears to join hers in a bittersweet reunion.

Moments passed by, minutes and seconds, but it didn’t matter. He had her in his arms and there was nothing he wanted more. His desperate need to reconciliate their love, obvious in the way his hands roamed her face, her neck; his fingers reaching out to entwine with her hair. His need to hold her in every way possible, to not let go, was stronger than his need for breath. Yet, he couldn’t ignore it for much longer, the need for air causing a different kind of pain in his chest. 

Reluctantly he broke away from her, his tongue darting quickly across his lower lip, hoping to savour the taste of her should he not get the chance to have it again. Her eyes opened, her gaze coming to fall upon the man before her who, despite everything, looked upon her with such love and adoration. He then spoke, breaking the silence that had wrapped around them like winter’s knitted blanket. 

“I’ve missed this.”


End file.
